


Hermione

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Background Relationships, Character Death, Fire, Gen, Patron/Suplicant Relationship, Plans For The Future, Sacred Fire, Sibling Rivalry, Time Skips, War, Yuletide, Yuletide 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hestia watches, and plans, and builds</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hermione

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mardy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mardy/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thanks so much to Makioka for all of the brainstorming and beta'ing help!

Hestia watched dispassionately as the other Goddesses dove for the apple of discord. By its very nature, the prize would not be worth winning, and the battle over it would also tear Olympus apart. Hestia was not a seer, beyond her divine foresight, but she had watched thousands of lives through thousands of fires, and she could predict the current chain of events with great certainty. Eris's 'gift' would come close to destroying Hestia's gleaming home with fighting and strife. However, it also might provide a rare opportunity for herself, if she laid the proper foundation.

Hestia began to plan.

⁂

Hestia watched carefully as the others gathered around Paris to hear his pronouncement. She knew, from having watched him through his nightly campfires, that the young boy was selfish; he was sure to choose Aphrodite. Most young people, caught in the wild energy and lack of wisdom that accompanied their age, would have made the same choice. As Hestia's guess was confirmed, she wove her will though the flames of the land, envisioning the possible outcomes of this moment. There was not a Greek who had not gazed into one of her fires, and not a face that had she not seen and examined.

Eris was cunning, and the effects of her discord would not end with the awarding of the Apple. Olympus would continue to suffer for it. As usual, Hestia would remain out of the fight, but that did not mean that she would remain out of the lives of the mortals who worshiped her. Every sacrifice to her siblings in the coming battles would also sustain her, and Hestia would use their added tributes as she forged her great enterprise. Hestia had no temples of her own, but the honor bestowed upon her by her siblings' supplicants would be enough.

For now.

⁂

Hestia watched graciously as Menelaus offered a sacrifice to herself and to Poseidon for help in the coming voyage. A stiff wind blew across the costal cliffs and whipped the flames higher as the Spartan King prayed. As Hestia consumed her portion, her gaze kept wandering from the King to his three children. The boys were barely grown, but would sail with their father this morning; they were old enough to understand the full story of their mother's capture. The girl-child, however, Hermione, was young, and would remain behind. This was the one that Hestia would hone; the blade that would carve Hestia's future path. With her mother stolen away, this girl was now the ruler of the household, and thus the new keeper of Hestia's sacred flame in her home. Moreover, as Hermione's father was the King of Sparta, she was also now the keeper of the Prytaneum - Hestia's sacred flame that blessed the entire kingdom.

She was young, true, but as Hestia watched her speak the words of supplication and praise, Hestia knew the girl would try her hardest to carry out her duties. Keeping the flames alight was an important task, and if this child could succeed, she would truly be worthy of Hestia's patronage.

As the men rushed down the craggy path to the fleet and the sacrificial flames died down, most looked to the sea, to watch the armada sail. Two young boys spared one glance back at their sister and their home before turning forward to their destiny. Little Hermione, however, continued to watch the dancing flames before her, oblivious to her brothers' last expression. Her entire being was focused on the fire that was now in her keeping, and the chore that lay ahead of her. Pleased, Hestia allowed a little of her essence to leak through the fire, appearing to the girl and granting her blessing. Hermione's eyes widened and Hestia knew that the girl had seen her veiled aspect in the pyre. The young girl gulped, and then ducked her head in respect. Extraordinarily pleased, Hestia nodded before withdrawing.

Yes, this child would do well.

⁂

Hestia watched with apparent disinterest as the other Olympians joined the battle that raged around Troy. Aphrodite fought for her Trojan pet with Hephaestus's reluctant assistance, while the slighted Athena and Hera threw their lot in with the Spartans. Ares and Zeus helped their sons on both sides, and Hades just smirked as soul after soul was granted into his keeping.

As Hestia had predicted, Olympian was fighting Olympian, as they never had before, and it was frankly a bit unbecoming to see them scuffing around in the dirt and blood like a bunch of mortals. Of course, the war, and her sibling's involvement, were key cornerstones in her building plot, so Hestia couldn't be too upset at their predicted behaviors.

Whenever her siblings and their children took a break, Hestia would turn her gaze back to Sparta, to the quickly growing Hermione. She never ignored her other sacred fires and new flame keepers, but Hermione was her favorite to watch. Despite having older relatives and advisors, Hermione had taken on the care and keeping of the Prytaneum herself, and had never once let it die. Hestia could not say the same of many new brides with twice her years, and it pleased the Goddess that her young acolyte was doing so well. The ritualistic words never tangled on her tongue, and the sacrifices she chose were always fresh and fitting to honor her goddess. Hestia could not ask for a better servant.

Hermione lit regular sacrifices for the welfare of her brothers and parents, and Hestia would often grant her visions in the fires. Sometimes it was the Goddess's own image, sometimes they were of the battered walls of Troy or the face of one of her distant family. Occasionally Hestia would show her a distant land by the sea, lush and plentiful. Waves lapped gently at the sloped shore, and sea life thrived along the strand. Strong trees and abundant fields dotted the landscape, and sloped hills overlooked it all. This sight initially confused the girl, but soon she took comfort in the spectacle. Sparta was a harsh land, and the city proper was far from the beaches, where the waves crashed into the craggy cliffs. More importantly, its welfare was buttressed on the back of this young child; but the land Hestia showed her was that of a relative paradise, where she would be free of responsibility. Once Hermione realized that, she began to appreciate the vision, and eventually long for it.

⁂

Hestia watched with great satisfaction as the battle for Helen finally ended. Eros's pollen was finally wiped from her eyes, and she sailed home with her husband and sons a broken woman. In the ten mortal years that had come before, Hestia had never chastised Aphrodite for her actions, though as a married mother and housekeeper, Helen's benefaction fell naturally to Hestia or Demeter. Hestia's younger sister had made her displeasure known already to the beautiful goddess, so Hestia had contented herself with a disapproving frown.

Her looks did little to faze the blithe goddess, but Hestia knew that the others noticed. And later, when the plan she was building came to fruition, Hestia's disapproval of Aphrodite would be a chink in the other's wall of power, just as would Demeter's rage, and Poseidon's backing of the Spartans. Hestia would not make her stance on the whole debacle so obvious, but she knew that her silence would say more, in the longer course.

Late at night, however, when the other Olympians slept or tended to their baser needs, Hestia smirked, and planned, and appeared to Hermione. The girl had grown into a young woman, with suitors of her own, but Hermione held them all at arm's length. She who had run a kingdom at seven could not be easily wooed by a man older yet less mature than her. Hestia approved, in principle, though she did intend for the girl to eventually bear heirs.

Hermione had been betrothed at her birth by her grandfather, and Hestia knew it, but in the stupor of war, her father had promised her to another. Hermione confided this to Hestia's flame as she tended it late at night, as well as her indifference about marrying either man. She admitted her confused feelings about the return of her mother – a mere ghost of the memory that Hermione had cherished in this lonely interval. She declared her love of the land she had tended these long years, and the pain of being put aside in the returned presence of her father and brothers – war heroes that they were. She confessed her longing for the land she saw in the sacred fire, and how she wished to run away from Sparta and retreat there, creating her own colony that she could call a home.

Hestia was pleased that her chosen had matured so perfectly according to plan, and she granted her supplicant an answer, of sorts, in the dancing flames. She showed Hermione the new suitor's visage, and then once again the land of her dreams. The message was clear; the first would lead to the second.

The new suitor was not Hestia's true choice, but other events needed to happen in a certain order for her plans to come to fruition, and the relationship with Neoptolemos would keep Hermione safely occupied until she was needed. They would not necessarily be _happy_ years for Hermione, but then one could hardly say that the last ten years had been particularly pleasant for her, and Hestia needed her strong, not content.

⁂

Hestia watched delightedly as Hermione fled from Orestes' unbearable household and his new mistress, arriving in the lush hill country North of Delphi. At last her plans were converging together, with the confluence of stars and lives that would bring her greatest and least visible scheme to its culmination.

Little Herakles was a swaddling babe, but his birth had been the final tinder on Hestia's planned pyre. The Dryopian king wooed Hermione, and she wearily accepted. Pleased, Hestia blessed her with fruitful loins, painless childbirth, and a comfortable home. After all, her favorite supplicant deserved the best for now. With a strong son named Menelaus after his grandfather, and five lovely daughters, Hermione was allowed at last to relax and take her ease. However, as Hestia knew she would, the wise mother continued to tend to the sacred fires of her home and her husband's Prytaneum, never abdicating that duty to another. Hestia had been her patron mother for far too long for Hermione to renounce that task.

And Hestia continued to reward her, with glimpses of her other, grown child, and her patroness's pleased visage. And always, always, the town on the seaside, in its Elysian splendor. For as long as that vision appeared in the flames, Hestia knew that Hermione would never truly be content.

The years flew by, and Hermione's husband eventually died, making her son the King of the Dryopes. This was the moment Hestia had been waiting for, and she began to whisper in his ear at night. Little sighs, hidden in the crackling of the flames that warmed his bedchambers. Little murmurs, asking why so many rich travelers passed through his lands without paying him anything for the privilege. Certainly, he controlled the easiest pass through the mountains to the Temple at Delphi, and surely his good graces were worth something to the pilgrims he supported thusly.

Fair Apollo was always in the Underworld, making his long return trip, and so never heard Hestia's whispers. Artemis caught them, but still upset with her brother's attack on Orion, she allowed her aunt her little trick. Hestia had long supported the younger Goddess, taking her side against Zeus when the child swore off marriage, and the huntress knew it well.

Within a few mortal months, Menelaus of Dryope was accosting the pilgrims headed for Delphi, and Apollo had taken notice. When Zeus ignored his pleas, he appealed to his half-brother, Herakles, who would soon be passing through the area in disguise.

As Hestia had planned, Menelaus's men accosted the young Olympian, assuming him to be a rich pilgrim. Her nephew slew them easily, and each ensuing wave of Dryopian warriors. Soon, young, cocky, Menelaus and his army were dead, and the remaining Dryopians were banished from their lands. They were directed south, to the rocky shores far from their fertile homes.

So the aged Hermione led her people steadily onwards, with her grandchildren at her side. And Hestia led Hermione, offering direction in the fires of local shepherds, and at each Prytaneum they passed through. They were always greeted courteously by the village leaders, but it was clear that they were not welcome to stay, and the vision of her promised land prompted Hermione to continue, driving her people along Hestia's carefully laid path.

Hermione had entrusted her oldest granddaughter with the sacred flame from Dryope, which they would use to establish a new Prytaneum once they found a suitable spot. Pleased with this forethought, and with the efforts of the proud girl who so resembled her favored grandmother, Hestia continued to ease their route as she lead them ever onwards. Until, at long last, they arrived at Hermione's seaside dreamland.

⁂

Hestia watched, pleased, as Hermione gazed out from the mountains upon the familiar landscape. The low, rolling hills with their bountiful harvests, the dark, blue-green waves crashing upon the sandy shore, and the protective cliffs were all just as she had shown the young girl who sat yawning beside her fire all night. With thankful tears in her eyes, Hermione viewed her destined land for the first time before finally passing into Hades care. Hestia smoothed her passing, escorting her favorite charge into her final peace.

Her pragmatic granddaughter immediately took charge, commanding first and foremost that the Prytaneum be built for the fire that she still carried, and then the town around it. Well pleased, Hestia withdrew from the watchful flames to observe the chaos that would once again descend on Olympus.

As she had predicted so many years ago, and as had happened so often, each of her family was arguing the new town as their own, desperately trying to lay claim to some descendent or favored petitioner among the Dryopians. If they could only convince the others, any one could have a prosperous new field of strong, hard-working, supplicants.

Finally, when the quarreling grew so loud and heated that the wind from their speech threatened her flame, Hestia rose. It took mere moments - more by mortal standards - for the others to notice, but soon the gleaming halls of Olympus fell silent. "If I may," Hestia began quietly, politely, demurely. "These mortals were chased from their home by Herakles. Perhaps they would be uncomfortable worshiping his parents," she nodded to her siblings, "or one of his brothers or sisters."

She sat again, and allowed the others to resume their debate. Apollo was immediately rejected by the others, since he was not pleased with the Dryopian siege on Delphi. Athena was also rejected, due to her patronage of the prosperous Athens. Soon, as Hestia had suggested, Herakles's other siblings dropped from contention, followed by Zeus and Hera, both already more than satisfied with their large numbers of worshipers. Dionysus soon followed suit, worn out from the bickering and in need of a strong drink to lift his spirits.

Hestia allowed the arguments to continue, this time centered around Demeter, Poseidon, and Aphrodite. The goddess of love was quickly overruled once Hermione's history was discovered, and Aphrodite's hand in ripping apart her family was gleefully pointed out by Demeter. She had never quite forgiven Aphrodite for her part in Persephone's situation, and Hestia had been counting on her younger sister to bring up the lamentable tale of Helen.

And at last she was left with her two siblings, each with valid claim. Since the town was on the seashore, it could reasonably be said to follow Poseidon, who had already lost out on the patronage of Athens in his earlier suit. However, due to its plentiful crops, Demeter also had fair claim, and she knew that Zeus was still paying her penance for his inaction during Persephone's abduction. Demeter could just as easily win this argument. However, Hestia had been preparing for this moment for years, laying the foundation work so subtly that none of the others would notice until the building was completed.

After days of battle between Poseidon and Demeter, Hestia judged that the time was right. Standing once again, she quickly attracted the attention of the crowd, who had become content to sit on their own thrones and watch the sparks fly.

"If I may," she offered courteously to Zeus once the hall was quiet, "I dislike seeing such _discord_ among my siblings. I have no throne to give up this time, but perhaps I have another solution. To keep my honorable siblings from fighting so, perhaps the patronage of this new town could be laden upon me? I would take on the task of guarding and guiding these displaced souls so that harmony could return to these halls."

Her logic was sound, and her offer generous, and furthermore it was her due, as she had no temples or towns to her name, as each other Olympian already had. Demeter and Poseidon fell silent, and Hestia knew that they were trying to figure out a way to overcome her suggestion and still win this battle. However, she knew she had already won. She had won when Aphrodite promised Helen to Paris. She had won when Poseidon lost Athens to her niece. She had won all those centuries ago when she had given up her uncomfortable throne to the brazen young god of drink.

⁂

Hestia watched triumphantly from her first half-finished temple as her new supplicants gathered together, their worship and sacrifice was going to be a source of great power to her in the coming years. Hestia's energy swelled gloriously as her patron's granddaughter lit the Prytaneum for the first time in the newly-built town of Hermione. 


End file.
